Prescribed burns play regenerative role in Texas ecosystems. Here’s why

COVINGTON, TX – Clouds of grey and brown smoke rolled through the field as yards of fire roared across dead grass. About 30 acres of Austin and Kelli Rollins’ property burned on the March morning, leaving blackened remnants just a couple dozen yards from the house.

But what looked like a natural disaster was the result of careful planning.

Prescribed burns, like the one onthe Rollinses property, can benefit wildlife populations, encourage the growth of native prairie grasses and limit damage from wildfires. Throughout Texas’ history, fires occurred naturally every three to seven years. Most native species are fire-adapted, Texas A&M’s Prescribed Burn Coordinator David Brooke said, but human fire suppression tactics have substantially decreased fire frequency and changed the landscape.

“From the Edwards Plateau, Hill Country up towards Dallas [and the] Panhandle, our habitat was a lot more open. It’s supposed to be rolling plains, prairies … with intermittent tree cover. What we’re seeing now is woody encroachment,” Brooke said.

At the Rollinses, the prescribed burn began with an introductory meeting to discuss strategy and a test fire on a corner of the lot. The team, largely consisting of members of the North Texas Prescribed Burn Association, edged the field with a water line, creating a moisture barrier to prevent flames from spreading in the wrong direction. Just a few yards behind the lengthening water line, volunteers used drip torches to create a “black line,” a thin burned strip meant to contain the larger plumes of fire that would come later.

The crew collaborated with the wind, starting the test fire at the most downwind corner and expanding the black lines perpendicularly. Winds whipped, around 20 miles per hour, approaching the regulatory safety limit. By working backwards from the fire’s natural destination, the team limited the chance of flames escaping their control.

“Essentially what we’re doing is building a catcher’s mitt so when we light everything up, [the black line] will be there to stop it,” Brandon Martin said, who serves on the board of the prescribed burn association.

North Texas Prescribed Burn Association members perform a controlled burn at a Covington, Texas ranch

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Martin, dressed in a hard hat and flame retardant clothing, assisted with this prescribed burn as a volunteer, but he also knows fire professionally through his role in emergency management at the Tarrant Regional Water District. As well as providing advice, he actively spread flames with a drip torch. Torch canisters are filled with fuel that, when turned down, trickles past a burning wick and ignites as it falls to the ground.

This fire is part of an effort to return the field to native prairie, a landscape Martin said depends on fire to thrive. Regular burning limits the growth of saplings and bushes, keeping the environment clear of exotic species that can outcompete native grasses.

Brooke said fire isn’t only a natural land management process, it’s also cost-effective. Invasive species can be removed mechanically with chainsaws and digging, or with chemical application. But in either instance, the labor and equipment costs are usually significantly higher than burning, especially with bigger plots.

“From an economics standpoint, it’s a heck of a lot cheaper to use fire,” Brooke said.

The resulting ash is high in nitrogen and phosphorus, which fertilizes the soil. With a little rain, Brooke said fields are often covered in green shoots within a matter of weeks, with a reinvigorated landscape emerging in the following months.

However, Brooke noted “one burn isn’t a silver bullet,” since invasive species could also be fed by these fresh nutrients. But if landowners can commit to following the three- to seven-year historic fire frequency, “it gives your native species the edge.”

New growth also attracts a variety of wildlife, as it is highly palatable and an ideal habitat to spot predators. Brooke said he’s seen a number of landowners undertake prescribed burns to improve the hunting prospects.

Prescribed burns are best known for their power to stopthe spread of wildfire. The lack of fuel for a wildfire after an intentional burn can lower the fire’s intensity and help save structures. Brooke pointed to the town of Borger, which has a history of proactive wildfire management.

In the fall of 2023, they burned a 7-mile-long, 250-foot wide strip along the edge of town, creating a “black line” that proved crucial months later. When one of the 2024 Panhandle wildfires approached the town, it stopped just outside of several neighborhoods at the fire break. Firefighters credited the work with saving homes and possibly lives.

For landowners considering undertaking controlled burns themselves, Brooke said Texas is a “right-to-burn” state – guaranteeing landowners the right to burn on their own property – but there are still regulations to follow. County burn bans must be observed, local authorities notified and some state agencies regulate weather conditions to manage the smoke.

Wind speeds are required to be between six and 23 miles per hour during a burn. If the breeze is too low, smoke won’t clear properly and it could settle on nearby roads, potentially causing an accident. If gusts are too high, fire behavior becomes more unpredictable.

Some counties also require a copy of the burn plan to be submitted in advance, which accounts for things like weather, the crew, suppression tactics (such as water, specialized rakes and leaf blowers) and smoke modeling.

Ultimately, given the high winds, the team on the Rollinses land decided to burn back to the black line in smaller strips instead of one roaring blaze. But even those sections could generate significant heat as the orange glow jumped from stem to stem. The gusts cleared most smoke quickly, but each time a new strip ignited, the plumes towered into the distance.

When just a few smoldering spots remained, the group gathered to debrief and share H-E-B sandwich trays. Pairs inquired about other teams’ strategies, but mostly, the crew was pleased with the safety and their progress – finishing the project in about three hours.

“Man, it’s beautiful,” Kelli Rollins said as she took a picture of the charred field against the blue sky. “I know that’s a weird thing to say, but it is.”